Roaring 20's
by SilentSource
Summary: Speakeasies, flappers, etc. All were a part of the 1920's. Imagine the flock from MR back then... who would they be? What would they be like? The first in a series. Fax. No wings... sorry.
1. Flappers and speakeasies

This story is going to be the first in a series about what MR would be like if the story was in the 20's 30's and all the way until the 80's

**This story is going to be the first in a series about what MR would be like if the story was in the 20's 30's and all the way until the 80's. Keep in mind that this note PROVES that these plots are MINE!**

**Hope it's good!!**

Max POV

As I walked through the busy streets of New York, I noticed that it was very windy, but not cold, and if it weren't for my cloche hat, then my short bob would have been in disarray. And because of the wind, my skirt would blow around slightly showing my knees.

I kept walking, knowing that I would soon be at Mae's Taylor shop. Or at least that was what it looked like on the outside.

You see, Mae's was what we flapper girls called a speakeasy. Or a secret bar. Ever since Prohibition happened, speakeasies have been sprouting up everywhere.

I opened the door to the Taylor shop and slipped in. I walked straight up to the counter and asked,

"Hello, I would like a private fitting for a pink and green gingham dress."

This was the code to get into the secret bar behind the shop. The clerk looked at me and smiled,

"Of course, we'll go back to the private room."

The private room was the bar.

We walked side by side until we reached the door. She unlocked it, and we were in another room.

This room was plain and could easily pass as a fitting room. The clerk, (who by the way was Mabel) went over and unlocked another door, which was very heavy looking, and supposed to be the vault. But when Mabel opened it, a tavern was in front of me.

The bar was filled with flappers and drunk's alike. There was a stage with a performing band, and a wooden bar with a very cute bartender.

He had olive skin, black hair and seemingly black eyes. I went over to order a drink.

"Hi, I assume you have some ale?"

He looked up and smiled.

"Of course."


	2. Oklahoma

I have to say: there is no racist quality to the 'he didn't look Hispanic' comment

**I have to say: there is no racist quality to the 'he didn't look Hispanic' comment. I meant it in a 'he looks kind of like a young Matt Dillon' okay, I'm making NO sense. But if you know who Matt Dillon is… then a rose for you! --**

**Matt Dillon as a young guy is hottttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt**

Max POV

Fang. That was his name. And although it was odd, it had a mysterious quality to it. I was hooked, and I was never a believer for love at first sight. But honestly, when you took a look at him, you would understand.

He had straightish black hair, and dark brown (not black) eyes. His skin was darker (but not olive) and he didn't look Hispanic. He just looked gorgeous.

"So, where are you from?" I asked

"I grew up in Oklahoma, and moved to the city when I was 11."

"Oh, I've lived here all of my life. I've never been out of the city. Sad right?"

"Very." He said with a smirk.

I sighed. I could take his teasing, it was just annoying.

"Is it fun to make fun of me?"

"Absolutely." He smirked again.

Fang POV

She was beautiful. Her big brown eyes shimmered as she bit her lip nervously.

"Oh." She responded coldly.

"Hey I didn't mean it like that!"

"Oh, it's just me. I'm sorry, I just hate being made fun of. It's not you!" She blushed.

"You are amazing."

She blushed again,

"Huh?"

I leaned in, and we kissed. It was perfect, just the two of us, kissing in a bar. The music was slow and moving, and the singer was great.

After about a minute, she stopped.

"I don't know you… this is wrong, you could even be courting someone!"

"Shhhh… I'm not courting anyone, and if you want to get to know me, then just ask."

She grinned and said,

"Tell me."

"Well, I told you I'm originally from Oklahoma. I work as a bartender. I hate being the center of attention, and I love hamburgers."

She smiled.

"Hamburgers? I love them too!"

"Well, unfortunately the bar only has 'alcoholic beverages' so you and I are out of luck."

"I guess so."

I was leaning in to kiss her again, when suddenly, the police burst in.

"**Freeze!**"

Max's eyes widened. The singer dropped her microphone. And as if on a spell, the whole room lifted their hands all at once.

**Hmm… who could be on the Police? And who's that singer? Well, who loves to talk, or rather, sing? Who would love (!) to do anything involving bombs, guns etc? And if you've guessed right, then where does Angel fit in?**


End file.
